


Acquisition of Data

by DieThePedoPenner



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Come Eating, Incest, M/M, Mycroft is 19, Mycroft isn't very moral, Sherlock Started it, Sherlock is 13, Underage sexual encounter, Using science as a basis for sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieThePedoPenner/pseuds/DieThePedoPenner
Summary: After being distant in their youth Mycroft and Sherlock finally start to bond on his visits home from University. Sherlock tells him of some problems he has been having, and eventually asks for his brothers help with an experiment.





	

Mycroft had never considered himself a particularly good big brother. The large gap in their ages made it difficult for the boys to bond as children, and by the time Sherlock was starting to show potential and…for lack of a better word, personality, Mycroft was already in University. He was accepted into Oxford at 16, and finished his first degree, political science, by 18. That summer he returned home for a short stay, finding Sherlock, all of 11 years old and far to intelligent for his years. To perceptive by far.  
“Do our parents know you’re a homosexual?” He asked, not at all doubting the answer. Mycroft raised an eyebrow.  
“And how did you come to that deduction, my dear little brother?” Mycroft asked, knowing that his question was as much an admission of guilt as anything else. Sherlock scoffed at him.  
“It’s plainly obvious, you pluck your eyebrows, and your shirt cuffs are starched. Your shirt is a size to big to hide your stomach, but your pants, obviously tailored for you, are to tightly fit in the arse. These aren’t things that men seeking women do.” Sherlock spouted arrogantly. Mycroft only nodded.  
“In the future I would keep such deductions to yourself, my dear. Sexuality is a very touchy subject and it is not one you should press upon in mixed company. Some people can react very badly. And to answer your question, no they do not. I intend to inform them if and when it becomes pertinent that they know. As I can’t see myself dating,” he spat the word as though it left a foul taste in his mouth. “or indeed getting married, were such a thing to be legalized, I see no reason to inform them of any of this.” He raised his eyebrow and looked Sherlock up and down. “And you dear brother? Have you discovered the secrets of your own libido?” Sherlock looked taken aback and his face crumpled into a frown.  
“No, it’s barely started stirring, and I’ve yet to concoct an experiment to find the cause. Mainly because it only happens in my sleep.” He stated, looking plainly annoyed by this. Mycroft allowed his mouth to twitch into a small smile.  
“Give it a few years, I’m sure things will begin moving any time now. You are only at the beginning of your pubescence.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked off, leaving Mycroft to straighten himself and remember his composure. Sherlock was undoubtedly unique. But far closer to Mycroft then their parents in intellect. 

It was another year before he returned home again. Halfway through another degree, Business and Economics this time. He was surprised to see how much Sherlock had grown in that time. Twelve on the cusp of Thirteen, his little brother had sprouted up several inches, his face thinning out and showing something of the man he would be. He was no longer a sullen child, but was in fact a sullen adolescent. He was prone to mood swings, and hid away in his rooms most days. Mummy was at her wits end, but Father recognized it was an early bout of teenage rebellion. Mycroft had been much the same, though never as dramatic.  
When Mycroft and Sherlock first had some time alone together, Sherlock broached the same indelicate topic from last time.  
“It’s not any easier to control or understand you see? I’ve taken all the data and compiled it into charts for analysis, but I can’t find any trend. I’ll get an erection watching the pond or staring at the neighbors dog. But I wont get one staring at pornographic images that are clearly designed to incite arousal. Other days a boy will lick his lips and I’ll have to run to the restroom to relieve myself. And yet another day a girl will bend over and the sight of her clavicle will have me nearly bursting the seams of my trousers. Yet when I’m alone, I cannot replicate the results. It’s as if my body defies the scientific method!” He ranted, growing more agitated as he spoke. Mycroft watched him throw his curls back and stare at the heavens, his long pale throat exposed to the rare English sunlight in the gardens. Mycroft licked his suddenly dry lips and looked away. He heard a soft exclamation from Sherlock and looked back only to see his brother quickly storming off back to the house. Mycroft raised an eyebrow and sighed. A strange boy indeed.  
Mycroft saw almost none of Sherlock for the rest of his visit, they were together at meals, but Sherlock was quick to scurry off afterwards and Mycroft found himself almost disappointed. He swept it out of his mind as he headed back to school.  
He returned during the Christmas Hols, intending to stay a few weeks and into the new year. His professors were having trouble finding work that was advanced enough for him. And he was being threatened with a Doctorate or Advanced Degree if he didn’t switch subjects again. He hadn’t yet decided on what he wanted to get his third degree in yet, so he hoped the holidays might be a good chance to clear his mind. He found himself looking forward to his odd little brother, and was rather disappointed when Sherlock continued his disappearing act. This went on for nearly the entire visit, until after the new year.  
Sherlock’s birthday was on the 6th of January, and Mummy and Father threw him a party. No other children attended, despite Mummy’s mention of sending invitations to Sherlock’s classmates. Mycroft didn’t dwell on it, having had very few acquaintances in his own youth, and no more in his early adult hood. Sherlock was only 13, and as awkward around children his own age as he was anyone else. Mycroft knew that reality, having lived it himself. So they ate cake and gave presents and listened to relatives fawn over his growth or intelligence or his ‘lovely curls and oh my those eyes are so striking, you’ll be a real lady killer Sherly!’. By the end of the evening he couldn’t blame Sherlock for snapping at a distant cousin and storming upstairs. He retired to his own room not long after.  
He was just dressing in his pajamas when he heard a soft knock on the door. “Enter.” he called, buttoning up his shirt. He heard Sherlock’s familiar steps and was glad that he had been correct as to who the knock belonged. He turned to look at him, his younger brother looking…unsure as he stood in the room. His eyes darted around him as though he was taking in the room, but Mycroft knew Sherlock came in here often when he was away to borrow books from his shelves.  
“Well if it isn’t the birthday boy. What can I do for you Sherlock?” He asked, keeping his voice level. Sherlock hadn’t spoken to him in months now, and he was very interested to find out what his brother had come into his room in the dead of night for. Sherlock licked his lips and glanced at his brother.  
“I’ve compiled more data. I need your help testing a theory.” Sherlock nearly slurred, the words said so quickly they were almost indecipherable. Mycroft raised an eyebrow.  
“Is this data related to our previous discussions?” Mycroft asked, keeping himself outwardly calm as his mind raced to understand the implications of Sherlock’s statement. The boy nodded. “And are you asking me to be an active participant in your data acquisition?” He asked again, knowing before Sherlock nodded that the answer was yes. “I see…are you aware of the moral and legal ramifications should something of that nature occur and be discovered?” Sherlock just rolled his eyes and stepped closer, causing Mycroft to tense, but Sherlock moved past him, sitting down on his bed.  
“When last we spoke I informed you I had been unable to recreate any of the results I had compiled, remember?” Mycroft nodded and gestured for him to continue. “In fact during our last conversation, I found a knew piece of data that I assumed to be as anomalous as the others. I fled to hide my reaction, and went to my room to deal with it as I had the others. But this time…I found myself thinking about it more. Instead of a physical reaction to base stimulus, I found that if I focused on the event that had triggered it in this case I could become aroused at any time. With all of the previous triggers this was not the case, the image or thought did not cause arousal after the first instance, but this one did. I’ve spent the last several months attempting to gather more data and I’ve run out of options. An experiment is the last step.” He met Mycroft’s eyes and Mycroft saw something within them that he hadn’t expected to ever see there. He licked his lips again and the pupils expanded.  
“Sherlock…I would need to know the specifics of the experiment before I could decide if I will participate.” He found himself shocked at his own words, knowing that what Sherlock was asking for was at the very least bordering on incestuous, and very possibly ranging into something more concretely immoral. Yet he was still listening, and even…excited by the possibility. Sherlock nodded.  
“I propose we start with something non physical. I would simply ask you to allow me to view you unclothed, and ascertain my body’s reaction to it.”  
Mycroft nodded, knowing that was a perfectly reasonable first step to such an experiment. “Sherlock I must ask one question before we proceed further. Is this an experiment to determine if your inclination is towards males in general, or a more specific target?” He knew the answer, he could play every bit of their conversation over in his head without even trying, but he needed to be sure Sherlock was aware of the implications, that he wasn’t deluding himself to the purpose.  
Sherlock sighed and shook his head sadly. “Though I believe I am somewhat capable of physical attraction to either sex, I have yet to find anyone who inspires a reaction quite like you.” It was Mycroft’s turn to nod, and seeing no other course of action he began unbuttoning his shirt. In the last year he had begun exercising, and though he wasn’t what one would deem trim, he had lost a considerable amount of weight. It helped with his insecurity as he stripped his shirt off and placed it neatly over the baseboard of his bed. He stood there momentarily, watching Sherlock watch him, examining the changes in respiration and the flush to his cheeks.  
“Is this sufficient for the experiment, or shall I remove more?” He asked flatly, having to will his own arousal down. Sherlock didn’t need to know that this exhibitionist viewing was enough to have him growing fatter in his pants. Sherlock nodded, and then shook his head and then nodded again.  
“No…It’s…I would like to see more?” The last part sounding more like a question than he had intended. Mycroft simply nodded and slipped his sleep trousers and pants off in one motion, turning to bend over and pick them up to place them on the bed with the others, giving Sherlock an in depth look at his arse, as he did so. He stood and turned back, only to find Sherlock’s jaw working as if he was attempting to find words, and his hands clenched tightly in the light material of his own sleep trousers. The boy was clearly aroused. Mycroft’s own control failed at that and he felt his own cock rise, and watched Sherlock watch it wide eyed.  
“It seems this portion of the experiment was a success. But to fully document it, I would need to examine you to determine the extent of your arousal.” Mycroft said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. Sherlock’s eyes flew up to meet his.  
“What…what would that examination entail?” He asked, actually stumbling over his words. Mycroft smiled lightly.  
“First you would have to disrobe, so I could better examine you, then I could cataloge the signs of arousal. From pupil dilation, increased respiration, heart rate, flushing, and then on to the less obvious signs. I would have to begin a tactile examination then, are you agreeable?” Sherlock nodded, nostrils flaring. He stood to fast, nearly losing his balance before he began tearing his shirt over his head and dropping his trousers. Mycroft almost regretted that Sherlock didn’t pick them up, mostly because he wanted the show he had given Sherlock in return.  
Sherlock was pale, and almost entirely hairless. His nipples were a bright pink, and pebbled deliciously, and his too thin frame shivered with anticipation. Mycroft licked his lips and stepped forward to conduct his examination. He started analytically.  
“Your skin is warm, you’re sweating slightly despite the ambient temperature being below your norm.” He grasped Sherlock’s neck for this, his fingers running through the hair at his nape and his thumb along his jaw line. “Skin is flushed, pupils dilated, breathing rapid. Yes, all clear signs of arousal.” And here he grew bold, trailing his hand down to Sherlock’s chest and running a finger over the pebbled nipples. Sherlock gasped, and moved into the test. “Erectile tissue is engorged, in the nipples at least.” He ran a finger over the other before continuing down. He trailed his manicured nails over the sensitive skin of his navel and over the sparse hair at his groan and grasped at the painfully erect cock. “This being the key indicator of arousal. Tissue is fully engorged, the glands exposed and,” he ran a thumb over the tip and watched Sherlock’s eyes roll back as his hips thrust forward into his big brother’s hand. “Yes, leaking preseminal fluid.” He took his free hand and fondled the boys smooth sack. “The testicles are swollen, the muscles tensed as in the moments before orgasm.” He let them go and reached around, slipping his hand between the cheeks of his plush buttocks, and gently stroking the ring of muscle there, it’s heat feeling scorching against his finger, and the muscle twitching at the contact. “And yes, showing signs of receptiveness in all areas. In fact I believe…” He pressed gently on the muscle and stroked expertly up the boys cock at the same time. Sherlock cried out and shuddered, and he felt the hot fluid splash onto his hand and land on his own, more than aroused, cock. “Yes, as I suspected, on the edge of orgasm.” He stepped back reluctantly, letting his hands fall away from his brothers smooth skin.  
“I would consider that a positive result, do you agree?” Mycroft asked, slowly bringing his soiled hand up and inspecting the mostly clear liquid before licking it off. It had the saltiness of preseminal fluid, with very little of the bitter flavor that the boy would one day possess. He heard Sherlock whimper and he looked up at the boy just in time to see him drop to his knees. Mycroft’s cock twitched at the sight and Sherlock crawled forward. Not making eye contact with Mycroft, he leaned in and began lapping the splashes of his own fluid off his big brother's cock. Mycroft was helpless to react, even if he had wanted to stop the boy, it only took three greedy licks, and the boy placing his lips around the glands and giving one good suck for Mycroft to go off. Sherlock was startled by it, so he pulled off before Mycroft had finished, resulting in his getting a face full of Mycroft’s essence. Mycroft panted and looked down at Sherlock, who looked aroused and indignant, with come dripping from his eyelashes and cheekbones. “I…definitely a success then?” He asked, and Sherlock had the gall to smile at him.


End file.
